


sing me a song

by bittersnake



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, Prompt Table, the author tries to be faux deep...and probably failed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 11:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17263505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittersnake/pseuds/bittersnake
Summary: Sing me a song, little bird. Sing me a song.





	sing me a song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> HAPPY NEW YEAR MADS! I hope you enjoy!

**Grave**

He spent months digging his own grave in silence. In the end, others ended up in his place.

**Coffee**

The Dornish had attempted to sway the Wolf of the North, through enticement of warmth and pleasure. They failed, but she did acquire a taste for their hot bitter brew they broke their fast with.

**Drink**

For all his calls for ales and wine, Sandor was not a drunkard. A few sips of a sour red were enough to satisfy him in the past, but now the lips of a red haired maid was his preferred vintage.

**Fall**

Some nights, she dreams of the Moondoor. She can see the face of her aunt. The acceptance. The peace. She doesn't sleep those nights.

**Stable**

She could always find him in the stables. He claimed that he dealt better with beasts than with men. And yet, she thought as she watched his hands gently calm one of the stallions, perhaps that made him a far better man than most.

**Taboo**

She had already lived a lifetime avoid taboos. This time, she would take them in both hands.

**Flexible**

She never knew how flexible she was until that night in the hallway. Her arms desperately clinging to his form. His breath caressing her neck. Her legs were hitched over his shoulders as he whispered  _sing little bird, sing_ _._

**Ugly**

She had seen ugliness. Gilded in lies and song. Sandor was the farthest thing from it.

**Food**

He always wondered why she craved lemon cakes. They seemed far too sour for one who was sweet maid in the past. She told him they tasted like life. A pale powdery sweetness, masking the sourness of life.

**Wood**

It was quiet in the godswood. There was no one except them. And that was enough.

 

 


End file.
